


A Hard Act to Follow

by MajorTrouble



Series: Sugar & Spice Bingo 2021 [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banquets, Feral bard, Gen, Showing Off, best bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorTrouble/pseuds/MajorTrouble
Summary: Written for Sugar & Spice Bingo - "Showing Off"--------------------------------------Lambert resisted rolling his eyes, but only just. He’d been dragged to this banquet with promises of good food and free-flowing ale. What he’d not been prepared for, but should have expected, was Jaskier’s performance. It had started innocently enough, sure, with the regular repertoire of ballads and jigs and dances.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion & Lambert
Series: Sugar & Spice Bingo 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196282
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18
Collections: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo





	A Hard Act to Follow

There wasn’t much Jaskier wouldn’t do. Lambert had figured this out after spending less than three months with the overly dressed and under prepared bard. He’d watched him take on ridiculous bets, stand up to overly zealous critics, and even punch a barmaid straight in the nose when she’d gotten a little too familiar after he’d rejected her advances. 

But this - this took the cake. Or, rather, the delicately prepared poached pears, he supposed. 

“There is absolutely no way I can let this stand,” Jaskier was declaring, hands on hips, squaring off against a man nearly twice his size. “You impugn my honour, _sir_ , and I demand satisfaction!”

Lambert resisted rolling his eyes, but only just. He’d been dragged to this banquet with promises of good food and free-flowing ale. What he’d not been prepared for, but should have expected, was Jaskier’s performance. It had started innocently enough, sure, with the regular repertoire of ballads and jigs and dances. 

And then the improvisation had started.

Jaskier had strategically picked out members of the audience to try his skills on. A baroness draped in thin chains of gold and rubies; he’d compared her to a shooting star. A young page in a dark green doublet and black breeches; he’d made up a limerick involving the growth of the trees in the woods. A broad shouldered woman with thick forearms and piercing green eyes; he’d quickly strummed through the opening of an extremely well-known song about a buxom shield-maiden, changing the lyrics to reflect his new muse. 

Finally, he’d spotted a shy, desperately nervous slip of a girl, dressed in palest pink, with ribbons in her hair, and he’d spun out a quick and lively dancing song that reminded Lambert of a very old folk tune. That had gotten the slightly drunken crowd up out of their seats, and Jaskier had pulled the girl out of her chair so he could dance around her, pulling a rose from somewhere that matched her outfit and offering it to her with a bow after he’d struck the final cord. 

Lambert had always been half-convinced Jaskier wasn’t entirely human. The rose made him wonder more, but he shuffled the thought away for later. 

Unfortunately, the girl’s father took exception to the bard’s treatment of his daughter and accused him of using the flower as a crude attempt at offering to take her maidenhood. 

Hence the current argument. The offended party was a good head taller than Jaskier, heavily muscled shoulders and torso slowly going soft. A retired soldier, if Lambert was to hazard a guess. 

“You are nothing but a scoundrel, seducing good women and reducing their value to the marriage contract. I will see you hanged for your crimes, you cuckold!” The man was practically frothing at the mouth as he yelled at Jaskier, his finger jabbing into the bard’s chest with each of his points. 

Jaskier, for his part, was looking up at the man but making it seem like he was looking down his nose. No small feat, Lambert decided, and was suitably impressed. There was a small smirk that twisted his lips and the Witcher resisted the urge to wince as the bard opened his mouth in retort. 

“Well, which is it, my good man? Am I a deflowerer of maidens or a cuckold? And in which category would you care to place your lovely daughter?” He had the audacity to turn and wink at the girl, whose cheeks coloured a most fetching shade of deeper pink. 

The soldier snarled out an unintelligible sound, reeling his fist in and arcing it forward to catch Jaskier’s face. But instead, Jaskier ducked under the swing, shoving his shoulder into the soldier’s chest and forcing him back down into his chair. Before he had time to react, Jaskier had a small dagger pressed to the man’s throat. 

Lambert was sure only he and the soldier were privy to the words Jaskier spoke next. “Be careful who you accuse of such things, _sir_. I am a forgiving man. Someone else might not be.” With that, he stepped back quickly, out of the range of the man, bowed graciously to his daughter, and hurried over to where Lambert was still sitting. 

He gently laid his lute inside its case before dropping onto the bench beside Lambert and stealing his ale. “I think it might be time I retired for the evening,” he sighed. “I fear our friend might take exception to my actions if I overstay my welcome.”

Lambert snorted. “I was going to offer to help, but I think you can handle yourself. Did you enjoy strutting around this evening? The rose was a nice touch.” He watched the colour rise to Jaskier’s cheeks quickly, though he tried to hide it behind his stolen ale.

“Hmm, noticed that, did you. I may have been trying too hard with that one.”

“Ya, because subtlety is something you’re known for.”

Jaskier made an affronted noise and wrinkled his nose. “I wasn’t trying to seduce her! She just looked sad and tired. I didn’t know her father was going to react like that.” When Lambert turned his disbelieving glare on him he winced. “Well, not exactly like that.”

Lambert finally gave in to the urge to roll his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank-you for reading!! Come find me at [major-trouble on tumblr](https://major-trouble.tumblr.com/)


End file.
